


Run A Race

by DagReaper (TyJaxReaper)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Maze Runner (Movies)
Genre: Jokes, Minho Newt and Thomas are in school together, Reminiscing, Suicide Run, Teasing, Track run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 04:37:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5150504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyJaxReaper/pseuds/DagReaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Isn’t that the point of why they’re called suicide runs,” he stated, watching as he glanced at him, laughing a little. </p><p>“Yeah, but this would be the first time someone dies from them!” he yelled, making sure that the two heard him as they ran passed.  “You’re a smart kid, tell me...” the Brit glanced at the man, watching him and waiting for a question.</p><p>“Does it look like Stilinski’s holding back?” he crossed his arms over his chest.</p><p>“I wouldn’t know,” he lied.<br/>----------<br/>TSL: There's an athlete day where everyone has to run, Thomas holds back, Minho runs for fun and Newt just sits by and watches. (short summary of what was said)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run A Race

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheSoggyLampshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSoggyLampshade/gifts).



“So, do you always act like an unhealthy shank during track?” Stiles shot his gaze to the bench, seeing Newt sitting there, almost looking smug that he didn’t have to run along with the rest of the group. He himself was bent over, panting and looking like a mess from just a few laps. He was unhealthy before the Maze, always last and always practically covered in sweat. He had to keep that up because everyone that knew him from before, knew that he was still that unfit kid, though he was trying to make it seem like he was getting fit, and fast. He wanted to run like Minho right now.

Thomas looked across the field, seeing the boy dash passed a load of the other kids at full pelt. The coach loved Minho, even went as far as to ask him to join Track or Lacrosse.

He was building himself up, wanting to do it slow and easy so it made it look like he was gradually getting fitter, and that meant needing to be seen while training or running. His only chance of that was rapidly training after school and during free periods. The coach had talked to him a few times about it, saying that if he kept it up he’d be going places. He even had to act like an idiot during Lacrosse, though, like he running, he pretended to get better, catching a ball here and there, tossing it better with almost perfect aim and then making it out to be an accident.

“Do you always sit around watching good-looking guys work out?” he shot back, turning to look at him with a childish grin.

“Good looking?” he questioned back teasingly, and Thomas’ mouth dropped in an incredulous fashion.

“How dare you, I’m beautiful,” he joked, seeing the eye roll Newt gave him.

“Dude, c’mon!” he turned around at the voice just as Minho stopped next to him, roughly patting his back. “Seriously, let’s race!” he jogged on the spot, seeming really pumped up. And just s he was about to reply, the coach strode over, stepping between them with his arms encircling their shoulders.

“Did I say you could stop and chat guys?” he asked intimidatingly, acting all friendly for a second before yelling. “No! I didn’t! Get your asses back on that field or you’ll be doing suicide-runs until you die!”

\--------------------

Newt watched as they instantly shot off in a sprint, stumbling slightly before they found their footing. Thomas didn’t hold back as much, seeming to have had his second wind. He glanced to his side and saw the coach still there, grinning like a madman.

“Isn’t that the point of why they’re called suicide runs,” he stated, watching as he glanced at him, laughing a little. He was aware why the man was smiling at the two runners. He had a moment of pride because Minho was basically the speed demon of Track, a boy that he recommended join a physical group, and he seemed proud that ‘Stiles’ seemed to getting fitter and better under his watchful eyes.

“Yeah, but this would be the first time someone dies from them!” he yelled, making sure that the two heard him as they ran passed. Thomas seemed to be a little behind Minho, but kept a steady pace while on his heels. “You’re a smart kid, tell me...” the Brit glanced at the man, watching him and waiting for a question.

“Does it look like Stilinski’s holding back?” he crossed his arms over his chest and Newt rubbed his neck a little, taking a second to bite his bottom lip.

“I wouldn’t know,” he lied. He knew very well that he was holding so much back. If he were honest Thomas was faster than even Minho, but if he put the effort in.

From everyone else’s point of view, the three met and became a group of best friends when the two enrolled in the school and began hanging with ‘Stiles’. They became inseparable and attached at the hip. And that was how they were still together now, but from certain people that ‘knew’ of the Maze, the Glades, the camp where their parents showed came and retrieved them... they knew very well that each Glader would never forget who their friends were, especially the ones from WICKED. They all would always be best friends, companions, and some frienamies, like Gally and Thomas.

It was a random thought, but he was glad the Glader decided to change his hair back to the style he had back in the Maze, he looked like less of a mess and more of a mature person, though his personality would say otherwise. The same could be said for Minho.

\--------------------

“C’mon, catch up!” Minho called, trying to urge the guy to get a damn move on. He was so ready to race him! To have some fun! The rest of these guys were so slow, and Thomas was his only competition in this school. Yeah, there were the werewolves, but their speed came from running on all fours. Thomas was his best chance for a damn good race.

“Get your ass in gear, c’mon!” he pushed, hearing the quick pants and boots hitting the floor behind him.

“I can’t, not yet!” he said back, still keeping pace with him.

“C’mooooon,” he almost whined. “One race! Three laps at full and we finish when he round back to Newt!” he yelled over the wind passing his ears, hearing the deep, irritated sigh. Yeah, he had him.

“One!” he haggled, only wanting one lap.

“Three!” he yelled back, staying on the same number.

“Two! That’s my final offer or you’re not getting the damn race!” ...

“Fine Two!” he slowed down a little until he was in line with Thomas and he gave him a smirk. “On three,” he said, seeing the grin the other gave him. “Three!” he yelled and shot off ahead, hearing him yell something about being a damn cheat and then he could hear him catching up, getting faster and faster.

They were halfway around the track when Thomas caught up, running alongside him and keeping pace like it was easy. Minho knew he was faster, but also knew that he needed to loosen up and just show how good he actually was. Yeah, he wanted to race him, for the rush and fun, but his ulterior motive was to show everyone else how good ‘Stiles’ really was. He needed to get over it and just run at full and show how good he was during Lacrosse. Back in the Maze Thomas made what resembled a Lacrosse stick and he was playing with a ball he made out of a fabric and string. It became a little game after he showed a few others how to make the stick. Lacrosse became a thing in the maze and it was fun. Even Newt tried it.

They were on the second lap and were rounding the last turn to where Newt was sitting, seeing the coach there too, his mouth wide and his jaw slack. He looked like someone just slapped him with a bag of hammers or something.

They skidded to a stop, Thomas ahead of him and he early slipped, dropping backwards a little and skidding his ass and leg along the floor until he dropped and slowed down to a stop next to the shocked man.

“Uhh...” Thomas stared at the coach, the guys eyebrows rising high on his forehead. Hopefully Minho did the right thing, otherwise ‘he’ll’ be in trouble with the other runner.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this, and thank 'The SoggyLampshade' for the prompt/request. :)


End file.
